(see look look) I grab the mic and start breakin down niggas Wit out no problem Broadcastin live from the bottom/aint no mic checkin worse/ Kick some rhymes if you got/but if it’s wack I draw back the cap for the peelin Should of stuck to rock dealin Cuz it’s the blood stealin/super vill.. Chill..stayin high like the ceilin See there ain’t enough room for the both of us See it’s a showdown/throw down Your best style I’ll bust (yo)i write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up Couldn’t hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs In all disrespect I’ll snatch you by your neck And do a suplex and step So nigga you can check my credentials Just hard rhymes and instrumentals Xzhibit smash you wit a dental And a loaded pistol No longer lookin in the window I’ll bust a field wit indo Killin quarts of beer Sadie’s outta here...
Verse two: mc breeze
Like a fuze/start spreadin the news Its 94 and breeze is givin niggas the blues I paid my dues/and now it’s time to go on to the next mode Make room for the kaboom/cuz I’m about to explode And drop bombs like a b1/cops I seize none And niggas step up/i soak emcseason 3 seconds to detinate/you betta evacuate No time to hesitate/you fuckin featherweight I ain’t the type to pic up the mic And catch the stage fright I’ll pull a gauge if I ain’t paid right To the promoters on tour Short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours! I’m psycho pathic like manson Aint wit the dancin But still I get more cheers than ted danson More dough than marino or roles than pacino You beatin me? that’s only in your dreams ho I’m not sayin I’m unbeatable/i’m sayin I’m untouchable Livin comfortable just like a huxtable Plus I’m rollin wit the cross roads Movin fast foward/while you other suckas Stuck in a pause mode I goes deep like a great white But I’m a stay black No matter how high the pay stacks Or if my rep gets bigger You might get take this nigga out the ghetto But not the ghetto out this nigga.....
Verse three: j-ro, tash
For the balls basketballs Microphones gassin grass(hey) Some of the few things j-ro likes to pass 93 mandingo/94 I’m the pharoah Cuz I’m b-bbad to the bone marrow I get wild Wit more styles than the martial arts I need weed I roll more grass than golf carts April 92 you no the ro was a looter Now I’m writin raps on my lab-top computer J-ro the tittie fiend/rap dean/wearin green Been on the scene/since the age of 13 I learned I had to earn the mic Now’s my turn I got furious styles like larry fishburne...
Wit da bitches tunin me in Like it’s the young and the restless Next up to bust my shit From the l-i-k-s’s Yes it’s the freshest Wit lyrics rough around the edges I’ll smoke you on the mic Like a pack of benson hedges But..hold up wait I’ll bust rhymes that’ll circulate That’ll wake yo punk ass up like mc eiht Cuz I be rockin rhymes Since the roof was on fire So point me to the bitch who’s the dopest butterflyer I’ll make her break it down like she patra when I catch ya Broadway is on the tables While I throw these lyrica atcha So....slow down before ya fuck wit my sound You betta do the hokey pokey And turn ya self around...
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Copy to Clipboard: Verse one: xzibit
(see look look) I grab the mic and start breakin down niggas Wit out no problem Broadcastin live from the bottom/aint no mic checkin worse/ Kick some rhymes if you got/but if it’s wack I draw back the cap for the peelin Should of stuck to rock dealin Cuz it’s the blood stealin/super vill.. Chill..stayin high like the ceilin See there ain’t enough room for the both of us See it’s a showdown/throw down Your best style I’ll bust (yo)i write rhymes that make niggas throw they sets up Couldn’t hold my style if you had a pair of handcuffs In all disrespect I’ll snatch you by your neck And do a suplex and step So nigga you can check my credentials Just hard rhymes and instrumentals Xzhibit smash you wit a dental And a loaded pistol No longer lookin in the window I’ll bust a field wit indo Killin quarts of beer Sadie’s outta here...
Verse two: mc breeze
Like a fuze/start spreadin the news Its 94 and breeze is givin niggas the blues I paid my dues/and now it’s time to go on to the next mode Make room for the kaboom/cuz I’m about to explode And drop bombs like a b1/cops I seize none And niggas step up/i soak emcseason 3 seconds to detinate/you betta evacuate No time to hesitate/you fuckin featherweight I ain’t the type to pic up the mic And catch the stage fright I’ll pull a gauge if I ain’t paid right To the promoters on tour Short me a buck and a buckshot and the barrel is yours! I’m psycho pathic like manson Aint wit the dancin But still I get more cheers than ted danson More dough than marino or roles than pacino You beatin me? that’s only in your dreams ho I’m not sayin I’m unbeatable/i’m sayin I’m untouchable Livin comfortable just like a huxtable Plus I’m rollin wit the cross roads Movin fast foward/while you other suckas Stuck in a pause mode I goes deep like a great white But I’m a stay black No matter how high the pay stacks Or if my rep gets bigger You might get take this nigga out the ghetto But not the ghetto out this nigga.....
Verse three: j-ro, tash
For the balls basketballs Microphones gassin grass(hey) Some of the few things j-ro likes to pass 93 mandingo/94 I’m the pharoah Cuz I’m b-bbad to the bone marrow I get wild Wit more styles than the martial arts I need weed I roll more grass than golf carts April 92 you no the ro was a looter Now I’m writin raps on my lab-top computer J-ro the tittie fiend/rap dean/wearin green Been on the scene/since the age of 13 I learned I had to earn the mic Now’s my turn I got furious styles like larry fishburne...
Wit da bitches tunin me in Like it’s the young and the restless Next up to bust my shit From the l-i-k-s’s Yes it’s the freshest Wit lyrics rough around the edges I’ll smoke you on the mic Like a pack of benson hedges But..hold up wait I’ll bust rhymes that’ll circulate That’ll wake yo punk ass up like mc eiht Cuz I be rockin rhymes Since the roof was on fire So point me to the bitch who’s the dopest butterflyer I’ll make her break it down like she patra when I catch ya Broadway is on the tables While I throw these lyrica atcha So....slow down before ya fuck wit my sound You betta do the hokey pokey And turn ya self around...
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